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BERMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE. 


* 


V 


Galaxy 

Apr ♦ 15, 1867. 


X 


Library  of 
The  University  of  North  Carolina 


COLLECTION  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINIANA 


ENDOWED  BY 

JOHN  SPRUNT  HILL 

of  the  Class  of  1889 


^970,75- (M£  fl 


f 

17  n 
Mi 

M 

IIP 


FOR  USE  ONLY  IN 
'TF  TNA  COLLECTION 


BEEMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE. 


PREVIOUS  to  the  Southern  Rebellion,  Bermuda  was  compara- 
tively unknown  to  the  world,  except  as  an  important  British 
naval  station.  No  startling  episode  in  the  great  concatenation  of 
events  had  occurred  for  many  years  to  disturb  the  tranquil  repose 
of  her  many  peaceful  islands.  Far  out  and  alone  in  the  broad 
Atlantic,  like  some  beautiful  recluse,  she  wooed  the  soft  winds  of 
Summer,  or  bared  her  breast  to  the  Autumnal  gales  that  wreathed 
her  reefs  and  bald  bluffs  with  foam.  Monthly,  the  packet  passing 
to  and  fro  between  St.  Thomas  and  Halifax,  and  touching  there, 
roused  her  from  her  Rip  Van  Winkle  sleep ;  and  when  the  few 
hours'  bustle  at  the  wharf  had  ceased,  when  the  mail  coach  that 
ran  from  the  hither  point  to  the  extremity  of  the  islands  had  dis- 
pensed its  favors  along  the  circuitous  route,  and  the  little  budget  of 
news  and  epistolary  missals  had  been  duly  digested,  she  lapsed 
again  into  the  quiet  of  her  daily  routine.  Her  small  farmers  culti- 
vated arrowroot,  tomatoes,  onions,  and  potatoes  to  a  limited  extent 
only  (for  her  negroes  had  grown  negligent  and  thriftless  under  the 
license  of  their  freedom),  an  occasional  craft  dropped  into  her  land- 
locked bays  to  bear  her  vegetable  tributes  to  the  markets  of  the 
North.  And  when  the  people  of  colder  climes  ate,  in  the  early 
Spring-time,  of  her  luscious  bananas  and  those  other  luxuries  so 
acceptable  because  so  out  of  season,  they  thought  kindly  of  Ber- 
muda ;  and  many  an  invalid  went  out  to  breathe  the  genial  air  of 
her  Winter  months.  Tourists,  too,  have  sketched  the  charms  of 
her  cedar-covered  islets  with  their  ever-chanr  'ng  outlines — and  once 
the  graceful  pen  of  the  romantic,  and  now  lamented  Willis  essayed 
the  pleasing  task ;  but  his  eyes  were  dazed  by  the  glare  of  her 
white  limestone  roads  and  snowy  cottages  and  cliffs,  and  so  he 
hastened  home  and  never  did  full  justice  to  Bermuda. 

But  suddenly  a  new  era  dawned  upon  the  islands.  A  marvellous 
change  came  over  the  sleepy  realm ;  the  spell  that  bound  the  en- 
chanted isle  was  broken.  The  war  in  America  crowded  her  poits 
with  shipping,  and  awakened  the  echoes  of  busy  trade  and  com- 
merce, which  frightened  the  hobgoblins  from  the  caves  which  they 
had  tenanted  since  Shakespeare  sang  the  tale  of  "  vexed  Bermoe- 
thes  "  tAvo  hundred  years  ago.  The  blockade  of  the  Southern  ports 
threw  into  her  lap  rare  treasures,  to  which  her  eyes  had  been  unac- 
customed before,  and  often  upon  her  deep,  transparent  waters,  were 
seen  what  looked  like  clots  of  foam,  but  which  were  really  stray 
waifs  of  cotton  floating — cotton  worth  two  shillings  sterling  per 
pound.     Ah,  what  golden  harvests  were  reaped,  what  mighty  risks 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


http://archive.org/details/bermudablockadeOOnewy 


BERMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE.  891 

were  run  for  this  same  cotton  in  those  old  blockading  days !  It 
seemed  as  though  wealth  came  down  in  showers  upon  Bermuda. 
It  blessed  all  in  any  way  connected  with  the  blockade.  It  blessed 
the  adventurers  of  high  and  low  degree,  who  gathered  there  from 
the  four  quarters  of  the  globe  to  speculate  upon  the  national  mis- 
fortune ;  it  blessed  the  grasping  Englishman,  the  Southern  renegade, 
the  deserter  from  the  North,  and  the  mercenaries  and  sharpers  of 
all  colors  and  pei'suasions,  alike.  The  employes  of  blockade-run- 
ners received  fabulous  wages — captains  $2,500  in  gold  per  round 
trip,  which  never  exceeded  a  month,  and  was  sometimes  made  in  a 
week;  pilots  $1,500;  engineers,  coal-heavers,  and  seamen,  in  pro- 
portion. The  capitalists  who  invested  in  the  venture  seldom  failed 
to  make  fortunes,  notwithstanding  the  large  percentage  of  steamers 
lost  or  captured,  for  the  gains  were  so  immense  that  one  successful 
voyage  made  up  the  loss  of  half  a  dozen  failures.  They  fared 
sumptuously  every  day  upon  the  profits  which  they  sheared  from 
the  poverty  and  distress  of  those  who  bore  the  burden  of  the  war. 
Their  steamers  were  supplied  with  the  luxuries  of  every  clime.  The 
cabin  tables  were  spread  with  sparkling  wines  and  choicest  viands. 
The  pinched  Confederates,  whom  three  lingering  years  of  war  had 
reduced  to  rags  or  homely  homespun,  looked  with  envious  eyes  upon 
the  sleek,  well-dressed  blockade-runners  who  sauntered  through 
their  streets  at  will,  while  they  themselves  were  in  constant  dread 
of  provost-marshals  and  conscripting  officers.  They  gloated  upon 
the  glittering  gold  the  strangers  lavished,  and  despised  their  own 
paper  dollar,  which  would  hardly  buy  a  row  of  pins.  The  invalid* 
who  sweltered  and  thirsted  in  the  hospitals  were  thankful  for  the 
boon  of  a  little  ice  which  they  chanced  to  receive  from  some  vessel's 
chest  at  Charleston  or  Wilmington.  It  seemed  to  the  struggling 
South  as  if  the  steamers  were  the  only  link  between  their  present 
world  of  despair  and  a  realm  of  happiness  beyond ;  and  when,  at 
intervals,  they  steamed  swiftly  up  to  its  deserted  ports,  their  advent 
was  always  welcomed  with  delight. 

On  such  occasions  there  was  some  semblance  in  these  ports  of 
the  commercial  activity  in  the  by-gone  days  of  peace.  Negroes 
bustled  about  the  wharves,  and  the  incessant  clatter  of  the  donkey 
engines  was  heard,  discharging  freight  which  long-tailed  drays 
carted  leisurely  away.  However,  excepting  these  and  the  seamen, 
only  a  few  old  men  and  youngsters  of  various  hues  sauntered  about 
the  spot.  The  streets  were  quite  deserted  except  by  the  provost 
guard,  an  occasional  female  in  mourning  garb,  or  a  crippled  soldier 
hobbling  on  his  way.  There  was  an  oppressive  sense  of  desolation 
everywhere,  such  as  one  feels  in  an  old  mill  where  the  machinery, 
long  since  silenced,  has  gone  to  rust,  with  rank  moss  grown  on  the 
water-wheel,  and  the  weather-worn  roof  opening  to  the  sky.  In  the 
market,  a  brace  of  lean  fowl  and  a  half  dozen  slimy  catfish  patiently 


892  BERMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE. 

waited  a  purchaser.  An  old  scow  ferried  occasional  passengers  over 
the  river  to  the  dilapidated  buildings  opposite.  (We  are  writing 
of  Wilmington  now.)  All  around  the  railroad  depot  broken 
machinery,  old  cannons  and  merchandise  were  strewn.  Three  or 
four  used-up  locomotives  were  in  perpetual  hospital  at  the  round 
house,  and  a  wheezy  old  engine,  with  steam  escaping  at  every  joint, 
had  just  struggled  in  with  the  "  express  train  "  of  half  a  dozen 
leaky  cars,  at  a  maximum  speed  of  five  miles  an  hour.  ~No  smoke 
issued  from  the  chimneys  of  the  hamlet  on  the  neighboring  knoll, 
for  its  owner  was  long  since  killed  in  the  war,  and  the  females  of 
the  family  had  moved  away.  Lean  cranes  flapped  lazily  up  from 
among  the  rank  reeds  and  cat-tails  that  grew  in  the  abandoned  rice- 
fields.  White  people  were  out  at  their  elbows  and  toes,  and  the 
negroes  wore  fragments  of  Federal  uniforms,  which  had  been  strip- 
ped from  battle-fields.  Buzzards  seldom  vouchsafed  their  once 
familiar  presence,  for  they  had  long  since  followed  their  scent  to 
the  richer  banquets  near  Chancellorsville  and  Chattanooga.  Cotton, 
which  had  been  brought  from  its  hiding  places  in  the  interior,  lay 
piled  in  vast  quantities  in  sheds  and  in  the  open  air.  In  places  it 
was  strewn  knee-deep,  where  the  bagging  had  burst  open,  rotted 
by  long  exposure.  Huge  masses  of  rosin,  melted  and  run  together 
and  mingled  with  hoops  and  staves,  were  encountered  on  every 
side.  What  wealth  lay  wasting  here,  while  the  world  was  suffering 
for  the  want  of  it ! 

Such  was  the  picture,  truthful  as  melancholy.  At  the  steamers' 
offices,  however,  there  was  always  some  stir,  and  when  an  auction 
sale  of  blockade  goods  was  advertised,  something  of  a  crowd  was 
collected.  All  the  Jews  swarmed  there  from  far  and  near,  like  flies 
around  the  bung  of  a  sugar  cask,  wrangling  with  each  other  and 
scrambling  for  the  prizes  offered.  (These  worthies  owed  no  alle- 
giance, except  to  Moses,  and  consequently  were  exempt  from  military 
service.)  Large  prices  were  paid  in  Confederate  scrip  for  coffee, 
medicines,  shoes  and  the  rest  of  the  catalogue ;  and  with  the  pro- 
ceeds the  blockade-runners  purchased  the  coveted  cotton  at  $250 
per  bale.  When  the  blockade  business  was  at  its  climax,  Con- 
federate money  was  worth  about  $14  for  $1  in  gold,  and  as  the 
cotton  brought  from  45  to  50  cents  per  pound  in  Bermuda,  the 
profit  on  a  single  bale  was  $230 ! 

Sometimes  as  many  as  a  dozen  steamers  were  in  the  port  of 
Wilmington  at  once.  In  general  they  loaded  leisurely,  because  they 
had  to  wait  their  opportunity.  It  was  only  when  the  night  was 
moonless  and  the  tide  full  on  the  bar  that  they  could  hope  to  run 
the  blockade  with  success.  The  "  silvery  moon  "  had  no  charms 
for  blockade-runners  ;  rather  come  storm  and  angry  wrack  of  wind 
and  waves.  Occasionally  three  or  four  would  run  out  together 
dividing  the  attention  of  the  ever-vigilant  blockading  cruisers,  but, 


BERMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE.  893 

as  a  rule,  each  attempted  the  perilous  gauntlet  alone.  Often  they 
failed  upon  the  very  threshold  of  their  adventure,  and  the  anxious 
owners  on  shore  received  early  intimation  of  their  probable  fate  in 
the  dull  boom  of  guns  that  was  wafted  from  Fort  Fisher,  thirty 
miles  below.  It  was  a  bold  act,  worthy  of  brave  men,  to  attempt 
that  bristling  cordon  of  Federal  ships  in  an  unarmed,  inoffensive 
craft.  Ladies  often  did  it,  too  ;  but  ladies  can  be  brave  even  when 
men's  courage  quails. 

/  We  can  imagine  one  of  these  long  and  rakish  steamers  lying  in 
the  stream  opposite  the  cotton-sheds  where  she  has  been  loading — 
a  jaunty  craft  with  graceful  lines,  appointments  all  complete,  and 
color  so  like  the  dusk,  that  at  nightfall  she  seems  but  a  doubtful 
shadow  upon  the  water.  The  thin  cloud  of  brown  smoke  that  floats 
from  her  funnel,  and  the  merry  "  heave-yo  "  at  the  windlass,  betoken 
that  she  is  getting  under  way.  Her  flags  are  flaunting  gayly — a 
Confederate  at  the  stem,  a  British  at  the  stern.  There  is  a  group 
of  ladies  and  children  on  her  quarter-deck,  and  but  for  the  long 
rows  of  cotton  bales  that  peer  over  her  rail,  one  might  imagine  that 
she  was  engaged  for  a  pleasure  excursion  down  the  river,  only  that 
it  is  not  customary  for  officers  in  uniform  to  demand  passports  of 
mere  excursionists.  Male  passengers  are  scarce,  for  the  gates  of  the 
Confederacy  are  closed  to  such.  Beside  a  couple  of  Jews,  there 
are  an  invalid  and  a  cripple ;  also  two  nondescripts,  whom  the  pro- 
vost guard,  the  shippers,  the  negroes  on  shore,  their  fellow-passen- 
gers, and  the  examining  officer,  have  repeatedly  passed  opinion  upon 
as  to  whether  they  were  deserters,  Yankee  spies,  correspondents  of 
the  London  "  Times,"  Government  officials,  or  agents  of  the  Gov- 
ernment departing  on  secret  service.  However,  they  are  both 
thoroughly  "papered,"  and  no  objection  can  be  made.  Their  pass- 
ports are  from  headquarters  at  Richmond,  and  duly  vised  by  the 
commanding  officer  at  Wilmington. 

There  is  very  little  vivacity  on  board.  A  feeling  of  uncertainty 
pervades  all.  Friends  part  with  tremulous  hand-shakings.  Those 
who  command  the  craft  know  well  the  dangers  that  attend  the  voy- 
age, and  the  risk  that  hangs  over  their  rich  freight  of  half  a  million. 
Many  a  lady's  bosom  heaves  with  throbbing  heart  and  breath  sup- 
pressed even  while  gliding  securely  past  the  rice-fields,  marshes  and 
belts  of  timber  that  girt  the  river  bank.  Wilmington  gradually 
fades  from  view.  The  sun  settles  down  upon  the  red  horizon.  An 
iron-clad  struggling  up  against  the  ctirrent  is  passed  and  left  astern. 
The  steamer  picks  her  way  through  tortuous  channels,  successive 
obstructions  of  piles  stretched  across  the  river,  and  labyrinths  of 
torpedoes,  marked  by  flag-buoys.  Down  near  the  mouth  of  the 
river  there  is  a  battery,  and  from  a  cutter  that  has  put  out  from 
shore  a  lieutenant  with  his  guard  clambers  over  the  ship's  side  to 
search  for  stowaways  and  examine  passports  again.     Every  nook 


894  BERMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE. 

and  corner,  every  locker  and  pantry,  is  searched  this  time.  Even 
the  hold  and  coal-bunkers  are  fumigated,  to  smoke  out  any  who 
perchance  may  have  concealed  themselves  there.  When  these  trials 
have  been  endured,  the  steamer  increases  speed  and  proceeds  on  her 
course  to  the  broad  and  placid  sound  that  is  sheltered  by  the  bar. 
There  she  rests  at  anchor  and  awaits  the  protecting  shades  of  night. 
Here  there  is  no  danger.  The  bristling  guns  of  Fort  Fisher  and 
the  Mound  Battery,  and  the  shoal  water  on  the  bar,  afford  double 
protection.  The  blockading  fleet  lies  miles  away  outside.  Perhaps 
from  the  masthead  the  outlines  of  one  or  two  of  them  can  be  indis- 
tinctly traced — nothing  more. 

As  dusk  falls,  a  little  boat  puts  out  from  land.  This  brings  the 
indispensable  pilot,  who  at  once  becomes  grand  master  of  the  ship. 
Everything  depends  upon  his  skill  and  implicit  obedience  to  his 
directions.  He  has  the  path  before  him  all  mapped  out,  and  can 
tell  the  number  and  latest  position  of  every  blockader  off  the  adja- 
cent coast.  He  has  carefully  noted  the  stage  of  water,  marked  the 
channel,  set  his  signal  lights,  and  arranged  the  indispensable  pre- 
liminaries of  the  trip.  At  length  the  last  glimmer  of  twilight  has 
vanished.  A  perceptible  haze  gathers  upon  the  ocean.  Every 
light  in  the  ship  is  carefully  extinguished.  The  binnacle  is  envel- 
oped with  canvas.  Telegraph  lines  are  rigged  fore  and  aft  to  com- 
municate from  the  pilot  forward  to  the  officer  who  directs  the  helms- 
man at  the  wheel.  The  lookouts,  the  captain  and  subordinate 
officers  take  their  respective  places.  Presently  a  deep  sigh  cornea 
from  the  j>onderous  engine,  and  a  tremor  runs  through  the  vessel 
as  she  gathers  headway  and  snuffs  the  fresh  breeze  that  comes  from 
the  ocean.  Strictest  silence  is  enjoined  now.  Not  a  whisper  is 
heard.  Even  the  plash  of  the  patent  paddle-wheels  (never  very 
noisy)  is  drowned  by  the  monotonous  sough  of  the  breaking  waves. 
The  funnels  emit  no  vapor  or  tell-tale  sparks.  The  lights  on  shore 
change  rapidly  with  the  varying  course.  A  red  lantern  flashes  for 
an  instant  to  starboard  and  then  goes  out,  just  where  a  glimpse 
was  caught  of  a  cloaked  figure  seated  in  a  skiff.  A  pale,  white 
light  gleams  on  the  larboard  side.  A  brighter  one  blazes  from  Fort 
Fisher  in  the  distance.  And  thus  the  course  is  laid  over  the  bar. 
The  speed  of  the  vessel  increases  as  the  hour  of  trial  approaches, 
and  the  lights  afloat  and  ashore  flit  and  intermingle  with  a  rapidity 
that  confuses  the  senses.  Presently  the  swash  and  long  swell  of 
the  sea  denote  that  the  bar  is  passed,  and  the  lights,  now  grown 
faint  and  spectral,  seem  to  keep  pace  with  the  vessel  as  she  lays  her 
course  along  the  coast. 

The  novice  sits  aft  with  bated  breath  and  his  heart  in  his  throat, 
a  desperate  grip  upon  some  stanchion,  and  eyes  straining  far  out 
into  the  gloom,  while,  with  a  sinking  sensation  like  being  twirled 
in  a  swing,  he  is  hurried  through  space  at  a  speed  of  twenty  miles 


BERMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE.  895 

an  hour,  over  billows  of  liquid  fire  that  roll  off  into  the  wake 
behind.  The  silence  is  oppressive,  and  the  suspense  painful.  But 
presently  a  new  object  of  interest  absorbs  attention.  Can  you  see 
nothing?  there — just  where  the  gleam  of  that  brilliant  star  flashed 
on  the  foam  ?  Pshaw !  'tis  mere  fancy.  The  shadows  always  fall 
deepest  where  the  dull  gray  of  the  ocean  blends  with  the  sky.  It 
is  the  loom  of  the  mist,  nothing  more.  And  yet  there  is  something 
that  flits  like  a  shadow,  moving  as  we  move — an  undefined  nebula 
without  shape  or  substance,  ever  attendant,  like  an  incubus  that 
oppresses  one  in  dreams.  Ha  !  this  is  exciting  !  What  tension  of 
taut-drawn  nerves !  What  if  it  should  be  one  of  them !  We  are 
drawing  a  little  ahead  of  the  thing  now.  Surely  it  is  a  blockader, 
and  one  of  the  fleetest,  too.  Her  scent  is  keen !  Those  lights  on 
shore  betray  us  whenever  we  run  between  them  and  her.  If  we 
could  only  head  her  off  now  and  stand  out  to  sea !  But  not  yet ! 
See !  she  burns  a  blue  light,  and  how  it  streams  over  the  waves ! 
And  there  goes  a  rocket !  We  can  see  her  plainly  enough  now — as 
plainly  as  she  can  us — and  so  near,  just  on  our  port  bow !  We  are 
lost  beyond  hope  ;  yet  the  ladies  are  calm  and  motionless,  and  the 
children  are  sleeping  quietly  below.  Ha !  there  it  comes — a  shot. 
"Take  care !  "  There  is  a  dazzling  glare  like  a  flash  of  sheet  light- 
ning, a  deafening  roar  from  the  guns,  and  all  is  gloom  again.  The 
blue  light  has  burned  out.  "  Any  one  hurt  ?  Were  we  struck  ?  " 
"  No."  "  All  right ;  pitch  in  the  rosin,  engineer,  and  shove  ahead  ! 
Hard-a-starboard  there  at  the  helm  ! "  There  is  no  occasion  for 
farther  silence  now.  The  swift  craft  doubles  on  her  track  like  a 
swallow,  and  stands  directly  out  to  sea.  In  ten  minutes  she  is  safe. 
Still,  the  engines  do  not  cease  their  effort,  but  all  night  long  she 
leaves  the  coast  at  swiftest  speed,  outward  bound  for  Bermuda. 
Vigilance  is  not  relaxed.  By  day  there  are  lookouts  stationed 
aloft,  and  every  craft  like  a  steamer  is  carefully  shunned ;  at  night, 
again,  lights  out  as  before ;  and  so,  day  after  day,  until  at  length 
the  tall  beacon  on  the  islands  flashes  out  its  friendly  blaze,  the 
steamer  runs  in  under  the  rocky  shore,  and  the  rattle  of  the  cable 
over  the  bows  tells  that  she  is  safely  anchored  in  the  roadstead. 

In  the  early  morning,  with  a  negro  pilot  on  board,  the  vessel 
steams  tortuously  through  narrow  channels  among  picturesque 
islands,  some  bald  and  wave-worn,  and  others  crowned  with  snowy 
cottages  nestling  in  groves  of  cedar,  with  weather-stained  ruins  and 
grim  martello  towers  from  which  great  cannon  bristle,  and  round- 
ing a  point  abruptly,  comes  at  once  in  full  view  of  the  romantic 
port  of  St.  George's,  with  its  crowded  shipping,  its  white  and  yellow 
limestone  houses,  its  tropical  trees  Avith  their  great  broad  leaves,  its 
many  skiffs  and  row-boats  passing  to  and  fro,  and  the  grand  old 
hill  behind  with  its  signal-station  and  frowning  battery.  There  the 
blockade-runner,  with  its  precious  freight,  had  no  fear  of  Federal 


896  BERMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE. 

cruisers,  albeit  their  ports  might  yawn  and  cannon  bristle  within 
pistol  range. 

At  only  one  other  spot  on  the  globe  could  be  seen  in  those  days 
the  same  commercial  features  that  made  Bermuda  attractive  to 
those  interested  in  keeping  open  the  outlet  for  cotton.  As  at 
Nassau,  so  here,  the  attention  of  the  stranger  entering  the  harbor 
was  at  once  attracted  to  the  sharp  and  graceful  outlines  of  the 
numerous  lead-colored  steamers  that  lay  at  anchor  in  the  stream  or 
moored  alongside  the  wharves;  and  among  all  the  miscellaneous 
shipping,  but  two  flags  were  conspicuous — the  cross  of  St.  George 
and  the  Rebel  flag,  the  one  with  its  crimson  field  and  the  other 
with  its  field  of  snowy  white.  The  Stars  and  Stripes  were  not 
numerous,  for  fear  of  Rebel  cruisers  had  induced  the  Federal  vessels 
to  seek  the  protecting  aegis  of  the  British  flag.  On  shore,  long 
lines  of  cotton  bales  lay  piled  upon  the  wharves  ;  vessels  bound  to 
transatlantic  ports  were  busily  loading  with  the  precious  staple; 
gangs  of  stalwart  blacks  sweltered  in  the  sun  as  they  plied  their 
eotton-hooks.  Then,  if  ever,  the  negroes  of  Bermuda  had  fallen 
upon  "  flush  times."  A  crown  was  as  easily  earned  as  a  shilling 
used  to  be.  Boating  seemed  to  be  the  favorite  employment  of  both 
sexes.  Fleets  of  skiffs  and  small  craft  of  all  descriptions  thronged 
like  bees  around  a  newly-arrived  ship.  Negroes  of  every  size  and 
hue  clung  to  her  sides  and  clambered  up  the  rigging,  anxious  to 
earn  a  sixpence  by  putting  passengers  ashore.  Ebony  Venuses  in 
short  frocks  and  palm-leaf  hats  with  enormous  brims  vied  with 
greasy  and  dilapidated  Sambos  for  customers.  Six  boats  insisted 
upon  carrying  the  same  passenger.  There  was  always  a  ridiculous 
rivalry  at  the  foot  of  the  gangway-ladder,  and  an  incessant  bandy- 
ing of  epithets  and  threats.  And  when  some  official  barge  hauled 
in  alongside  with  vigorous  sweep  of  oars,  there  was  a  crash  among 
the  lighter  skiffs,  a  clatter  of  oars  and  paddles,  a  jargon  of  angry 
voices,  a  dodging  of  woolly  pates,  and  a  rolling  of  whites  of  eyes 
that  threatened  disaster  somewhere. 

The  passenger  who  was  fortunate  enough  to  run  the  gauntlet  of 
this  rivalry  successfully,  did  not  find  St.  George's  an  attractive 
place ;  nor  will  he  to-day.  The  hot  sun  streams  up  from  the  daz- 
zling white  of  its  narrow  limestone  streets  and  is  reflected  again 
from  the  walls  on  either  side.  Houses,  neat  and  substantial  enough, 
but  without  architectural  plan,  are  inconveniently  placed  in  the 
path  just  where  one  wishes  to  go.  Streets,  lanes  and  alleys  inter- 
sect each  other  in  labyrinthine  perplexity.  The  banana  and  paw- 
paw grow  in  most  improbable  places,  and  dispute  with  the  cottages 
for  their  sites.  Descending  the  hilly  roads,  the  foot  slips  into  a 
gully,  and  going  up,  the  toe  encounters  an  inconvenient  rock. 
Soldiers  in  red  coats  flash  like  flambeaus  at  every  turn,  and  every- 
where sailors,  blockade-runners,  citizens,  merchants  and  lascivious 


BERMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE.  897 

mulatto  women,  congregate  like  people  at  a  fair.  The  plaza  or 
open  square  is  crowded  with  lazy  negroes  who  have  nothing  to  do ; 
not  far  away,  among  the  shipping,  is  a  camp  of  black  women,  hud- 
dled like  gipsies  around  their  pots  and  fires,  engaged  in  cooking 
for  such  as  are  hungry  and  not  curious  as  to  culinary  secrets.  Near 
at  hand  is  the  market  wharf,  crowded  with  fishing  boats,  whose 
sable  proprietors  skin  huge  fish  with  dexterous  knives  as  easily  as 
one  draws  off  his  glove.  These  will  always  give  good  weight  for 
an  extra  price  per  pound.  Trade  is  active  in  all  the  shops,  and  not 
one  but  has  some  interest  in  the  blockade.  The  beer  and  gin  shops 
drive  a  thriving  business ;  the  clothing  shops  coin  money;  and  in 
the  larger  establishments  huge  piles  of  blockade  goods  fill  every 
nook  and  cranny.  Every  one  has  his  hands  full  of  business.  Ships 
cannot  bring  supplies  fast  enough.  Shops  are  repeatedly  emptied 
and  replenished.  The  large  hotels  cannot  begin  to  accommodate  all 
who  apply,  even  though  the  charges  are  exorbitant.  Supplies  of 
coals  constantly  arrive  for  the  blockade-runners,  and  many  a  swift 
steamer  that  comes  from  England  finds  her  most  profitable  venture 
in  the  direction  of  a  Confederate  port. 

Such  was  the  aspect  of  things  in  the  once  lethargic,  staid  old 
town  of  St.  George's  during  the  palmiest  days  of  the  blockade. 
Who  will  say  that  the  social  benefits  derived  equalled  the  pecuniary 
profits  ?  What  old  resident  did  not  shudder  at  the  corruption  that 
danced  attendance  upon  a  feverish  trade. 

As  every  project  and  every  venture,  in  those  days,  looked  toward 
the  Southern  coast,  of  course  the  inhabitants  were  intensely  "  secesh." 
More  than  one  resident  of  the  islands  ran  the  blockade  to  fight  the 
battles  of  the  South.  The  songs  of  "  Dixie,"  and  the  "  Bonny  Blue 
Flag,"  were  everywhere  heard.  Even  the  negroes  caught  the  infec- 
tion, and  sang  how  "  Jeff.  Davis  is  a  gentleman,  and  Abe  Lincoln  is 
a  fool."  Confederate  papers  were  received  almost  semi-weekly. 
Confederate  flags  were  chalked  upon  the  walls  and  gateways. 
Pictures  of  prominent  Southerners,  and  of  Rebel  cruisers,  adorned 
the  photograph  galleries.  Almost  every  house  had  some  memento 
of  the  Confederacy.  British  goods  were  always  in  great  demand 
by  the  blockade  runners,  for  they  would  have  no  dealings  with 
Yankees.  Accordingly,  in  the  shops  could  be  found  bushels  of 
Connecticut  pins  and  cases  of  Massachusetts  shoes  marked  "  Lon- 
don," elegant  felt  hats  from  New  York  labelled  "  Paris,"  and  good 
old  Irish  whiskey  from  New  Jersey ;  for  there  were  many  articles 
that  could  be  purchased  cheaper  in  the  United  States  than  in 
Europe,  and  the  laws  of  trade  are  inflexible — "  the  longest  pole 
knocks  down  the  most  persimmons."  And  so  quantities  of  these 
goods  found  place  in  blockade  cargoes,  to  the  great  profit  of  shrewd 
speculators  at  the  North. 

In  that  period  of  promiscuous  scrambling  for  wealth,  it  was  a 


898  BERMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE. 

relief  to  escape  from  this  contaminating  atmosphere  of  St.  George's, 
to  shake  the  dust- from  the  feet,  and  fly  at  a  spanking  gait  over  the 
hard  lime  road  toward  Hamilton.  It  is  the  regular  mail  route,  and 
a  finer  road  is  seldom  seen.  It  is  a  luxury  to  drive  over  such  a 
road.  The  breeze  almost  always  blows  fresh  from  the  ocean  and 
tempers  the  heat  of  the  ardent  sun.  Elegant  equijiages  are  en- 
countered at  frequent  intervals  (for  they  have  fine  carriages  in  Ber- 
muda). The  wheels  fly  around  with  a  low,  pleasant  clatter  as  they 
reel  off  the  easy  miles,  and  the  horses  step  off  over  steep  ascent 
and  level  way  alike,  with  a  gait  that  never  flags, 

Seldom  is  found  more  varied  or  picturesque  scenery  than  among 
the  islands  of  Bermuda.  There  are  wooded  dells  as  secluded  as  if 
far  remote  from  sea,  where  mangroves  grow  and  the  aroma  of  the 
sage-bush  perfumes  the  air.  There  are  dark  avenues  of  cedars, 
whose  dense  foliage  shuts  out  the  sun.  Here,  on  a  rising  knoll,  an 
aristocratic  cottage  peers  out  from  among  palmetto  groves  and 
clustering  banana  and  paw-paw.  Hedges  of  oleander  in  luxuriant 
bloom,  grow  high  above  the  limestone  walls  that  girt  the  road,  and 
through  the  vista  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  blue  ocean  beyond. 
Then  an  abrupt  turn  in  the  road  leads  to  a  narrow  neck  of  land  and 
reveals  an  unobstructed  view.  On  the  right  is  the  broad  expanse 
of  ocean,  with  snowy  sails  penciled  on  the  far  horizon,  and  spark- 
ling lines  of  foam  that  break  over  the  coral  reefs  nearer  shore ;  on 
the  left,  an  archipelago  of  islets — some  of  them  densely  wooded — 
with  outlines  sweeping  gracefully  into  all  conceivable  curves,  while 
others  are  mere  isolated  hummocks  of  rocks  where  the  surf  never 
ceases  to  thunder.  Now  we  cross  a  substantial  bridge  that  joins 
two  islands,  and  looking  over  the  rail  down  into  the  deep  green 
water,  twelve  feet  or  more,  can  see  the  large  fish  sporting  on  the 
bottom.  Then  there  is  a  ferry  to  cross,  and  after  that  the  road 
skirts  the  rocky  shore  so  closely  that  one  can  toss  a  pebble  into  the 
emerald  sea  and  hear  the  sough  of  the  waves  that  moan  and  mur- 
mur in  the  selfsame  caves  that  Calaban  knew  of  long  ago.  Here 
are  rocks  chafed  into  every  fantastic  shape  by  the  angry  surges 
which  in  storms  dash  far  over  the  roadway.  At  intervals,  pieces 
of  wreck  are  strewn — relics  of  fated  ships  lured  to  destruction  by 
the  siren  voice  of  sweet  Bermuda,  so  peaceful  when  the  sea  is  calm. 

At  intervals  great  water-tanks  are  cut  into  the  rocky  hill-side  to 
catch  the  rain  ;  for  the  Bermudians  have  no  wells,  and  must  pro- 
vide against  times  of  drought.  Approaching  Hamilton,  the  road 
turns  inland  again,  cut  through  the  solid  rock  in  many  places,  and 
winding  over  hill  and  dale,  through  shady  groves  of  cedar ;  past 
elegant  mansions,  half  hidden  by  foliage,  and  protected  from  intru- 
ders by  massive  walls,  whose  tops  bristle  with  spikes  or  broken 
glass  laid  in  cement ;  past  little  patches  of  arrowroot  and  sweet 
potatoes;  then  through  avenues  of  palmetto  and  China  trees,  that 


BERMUDA  AND  THE  BLOCKADE.       899 

lead  up  to  a  pretty  chapel  and  its  churchyard;  and  at  last  to  the 
coast  again,  where  there  are  romantic  little  bays  with  houses 
perched  upon  the  very  shore,  ornamental  gardens  shut  in  by  sea 
walls,  boat-houses,  bathing-houses,  and  jaunty  yachts  at  anchor. 

All  the  buildings  in  Bermuda  are  built  of  limestone,  for  the  whole 
island  is  but  a  quarry,  and  when  a  carpenter  wishes  to  build,  he 
takes  his  saw  and  saws  himself  a  house  from  the  material  at  hand. 
The  people  are  aristocratic,  but  hospitable ;  the  mansions  elegant, 
the  gardens  spacious  and  beautiful ;  the  shaded  avenues  and  sub- 
urban retreats  afford  many  delightful  drives. 

At  Somerset  are  fine  farms  and  grazing-fields  for  the  cattle  that 
are  brought  from  New  York  and  Nova  Scotia  for  the  Bermuda 
market.  At  Ireland  Island  are  spacious  storehouses  for  the  gar- 
rison, an  iron  floating  battery,  several  strong  fortifications,  and  an 
extensive  quarry.  Here  also  are  some  of  the  finest  docks  in  the 
world,  all  built  by  convict  labor  that  extended  through  many  years 
of  toils  (for  Bermuda  was  a  penal  colony  once),  and  here  are  the 
huge  wooden  hulks  in  which  they  were  confined,  still  moored  to 
the  quay.     Some  men-of-war  ai*e  always  stationed  here. 

What  more  need  be  said  in  praise  of  Bermuda,  or  in  descriptive 
detail  ?  It  is  true  that  the  flush  times  of  the  old  blockading  days 
have  passed  away.  The  golden  gains  they  then  enjoyed  were  as 
transitory  as  the  so-called  Southern  Confederacy  itself.  The  com- 
mercial fabric  upon  which  many  hopes  were  built  has  crumbled. 
The  motley  crowd  of  speculators  and  cormorants  that  thronged  her 
streets  is  dispersed  forever.  Her  wharves  no  longer  swarm  with 
shipping.  Once  more  she  has  lapsed  into  the  healthful  quiet  of  her 
former  peaceful  life.  The  little  colony  lives  and  moves  in  blissful 
independence  of  the  vexed  questions  that  distract  the  world  outside, 
unmoved  by  the  turmoil  of  political  strife.  Her  Governor  regularly 
draws  his  ample  salary,  her  legislators  receive  their  stated  pay  for 
settling  the  momentous  affairs  of  the  island,  and  the  citizens  are 
happy  in  the  possession  of  a  sufficiency  of  the  good  things  of  this 
life.  Invalids  still  seek  the  genial  atmosphere  of  her  Winter 
months,  and  hold  their  visits  always  in  kindly  remembrance.  Happy 
is  Bermuda,  no  longer  vexed  with  the  fever  of  excitement  that  was 
attendant  on  the  blockade. 


ALWAYS   LOVE. 


BECAUSE  Love's  sigh  is  but  a  sigh, 
Doth  it  the  less  Love's  heart  disclose  ? 
Because  the  rose  must  fade  and  die, 

Is  it  the  less  the  lovely  rose  ? 
Because  black  night  must  shroud  the  day, 
Shall  the  brave  sun  no  more  be  gay  ? 

Because  chill  Autumn  frights  the  birds, 
Shall  we  distrust  that  Spring  will  come  ? 

Because  sweet  words  are  only  words, 
Shall  Love  for  evermore  be  dumb  ? 

Because  our  bliss  is  fleeting  bliss, 

Shall  we  who  love  forbear  to  kiss  ? 

Because  those  eyes  of  gentle  mirth 

Must  sometime  cease  my  heart  to  thrill, 

Because  the  sweetest  voice  on  earth 
Sooner  or  later  must  be  still, 

Because  its  idol  is  unsure, 

Shall  my  strong  love  the  less  endure  ? 

Ah,  no  !  let  lovers  breathe  their  sighs, 

And  roses  bloom,  and  music  sound, 
And  passion  burn  on  lips  and  eyes, 

And  Pleasure's  merry  world  go  round : 
Let  golden  sunshine  flood  the  sky, 
And  let  me  love,  or  let  me  die ! 

William  "Wintbe. 


Jill 


